Good Friday

We adore You, O Christ, and we praise You, because by Your holy cross You have redeemed the world.

Good Friday
by
Theodore Maynard

The priest unveiled the crucifix, and I

Went up -- but oh, my heart was numb and dry!--

To kiss His image who once heard, "Crucify!"

Tears rained from Peter down the rugged rock

When, thrice denying, he heard the crowing cock:

I dull-eyed, with my sins a countless flock.

I kissed Christ's wounded bosom in my turn--

Death-cold, I colder. Would that I could learn

That piteousness with which the strong saints burn!

Next an old feeble, shabby woman came.

She kissed His feet, and was transformed to flame;

Then hands and face and side, and sobbed His name.

Compassionate and hungry, in eager bliss

Crucified with Him! Would that I could kiss,

Dear stranger, your poor, faltering feet for this!

(From Not Even Death: A Book of Poems by Theodore Maynard, 1941.)